Touchdown! After a long flight of writing a lot of blog entries, I finally landed in San Francisco. I was very happy to be away from New York. This was forced time to clear my head. It would be impossible to try to find a guy for a date from thousands of miles away, and I needed a break. Don’t get me wrong, I want a man to call my own, but the process of finding one is exhausting.

I rode to my hotel with a very chatty driver. He had lots of questions and comments for me. Many of the comments referred to women and our “shared” desire for them. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was gay. I just let him continue talking. It wasn’t that long of a ride.

I got to my hotel, and took my good ol’ time getting to the office. They didn’t know exactly what time I landed, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have any work for me yet anyway.

I was right. When I arrived at the office, they had no work for me the entire afternoon. This worked out quite well. It allowed me to update the blog and go for a nice long delicious lunch I didn’t have to pay for. When the workday was coming to a close, I made my way back to my hotel.

I’d been on Grindr all day hunting for a guy to either meet for a drink or have some fun with. Nothing was turning up. I recalled the last time I was out there. Originally, I had the same luck. That is, until I picked up signal from San Francisco. No such luck that day.

I thought about the other weapon in my arsenal. I could pull up adam4adam.com and see who was in the area. I managed to find a few sexy men to message. It was only a matter of time before one of them messaged me back. A few did, but many of them were flakes. A few of them were unattractive as soon as I saw their faces as well. I asked a few to hang out, and the ones only interested in sex, I proposed coming to my hotel. Some of the guys on Grindr offered bl*wjobs, but I was looking to get it in.

One guy was very willing to make the journey to my hotel, and he was a bottom and looked pretty sexy. I told him to come by and gave him the details. I had one failsafe. They would not be able to come up to my room without me picking them up from the lobby. If I was unsatisfied with what showed up, I could hop back in the elevator and shut the door. That’s terrible, I know, but you never know what will show up when push comes to shove.

I was doing it again. I ended a relationship and simply fell back into old habits of hooking up outside of a relationship. I wasn’t thrilled with myself, but I was giving myself a free pass while in San Francisco.

I would have to put off dinner until after my evening tryst arrived. I was hungry, but I wouldn’t have time to get dinner before he came by. When he arrived, I collected the man from the lobby. He was a good-looking Aussie.

We got up to my room and talked about where we were from and our stories. He sat on the bed and talked with me. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. He was a bit of a vagabond. I liked his traveling experience. I was envious of it.

When the moment was right, we both went in for a kiss. This was followed by LOTS of kissing. Lots! He seemed quite nervous. I was trying to get him to relax a bit. I took my time with him gently feeling his body. He was a good kisser. This was a good sign.

Slowly I began peeling off some of the many layers he was wearing until we were both naked. He had a decent body. He was skinny, but not exactly muscular and defined. The kissing became more passionate and the petting grew heavier. When we were pretty far along, I whispered in his ear, “I want to be inside you.” He responded the same sentiment, so I reached for the condom and lube I had in the nightstand drawer.

Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. Now I know I say this in a lot of posts, but this time, it may be too graphic for even those who are normally turned on by my warnings. Just be forewarned. Don’t say I didn’t tell you so!

I inserted myself inside him. He felt great. He seemed to really be enjoying himself as well. We were about two minutes in when something didn’t feel quite right. I took a whiff of the air, and immediately knew what was wrong. I looked down in horror, and it was all I could do to keep myself from vomiting all over this man.

I immediately pulled out and hustled to the bathroom. We both knew what was wrong. I tossed the condom in the trash and began scrubbing myself. I casually suggested a shower. I was trying to maintain my composure so this man wouldn’t feel worse than he already did. This was horrific, but I still had the man’s ego in the back of my mind.

He suggested I go first. I’m not sure why. All I could think about was his uncomfortable state while I showered. He made his way to the toilet and took care of himself while I washed up in the shower. When I finished, I left the bathroom so he could do whatever he needed to do.

I was still a little shaky and trying not to think about what just happened. I’d encountered this before, but never to this extent.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you could have knocked me over with a feather. He actually suggested we keep going. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. At this point, I no longer had the man’s feelings in mind but only my own sanity. I told him, “No. I think I’m done for the night.” He didn’t stop apologizing. “Don’t worry about it. It happens. Part of the territory,” I reassured him while he got dressed.

And then, when I didn’t think this man could surprise me any more than he already did, he suggested we grab food since he hadn’t eaten anything yet either. “No. I think I’m just going to order room service or something but thanks,” I added.

Just as he was walking out the door, my phone rang. It was San Francisco. I explained to my departing guest that I needed to take the call and gave him a wave goodbye. I couldn’t wait for him to be out of my sight so I could stop thinking about what happened.

“Helloooooo. How are you? Are you Grindring?” he said as I picked up the phone. All I could think in the back of my head was, if you only knew! I simply replied, “I’m single. I can do whatever I want.” We talked about our schedules for the week and planned a night we could grab a drink together. He suggested we meet in The Castro since I didn’t make it up there during my last visit. Once our plans were solidified, I hung up and tried to figure out what to do for dinner.

Joe’s Crab Shack was a block away and was one of the few places still open at that hour. I decided to go there. This would be the second mistake of the night, as this was the worst seafood I’d ever had. I couldn’t finish it. I was literally wiping the seasoning off the crab legs with paper towels, and I still could barely tolerate them.

If this was a sign of what was to come from my San Francisco trip, I was going to lock myself in my hotel room when I wasn’t at work. The positive was, it certainly couldn’t get much worse…